


A Solo Journey

by LadyRaritatum



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Friendship, Gen, Loneliness, Worry, once again we have a situation where harry doesn't even consider his other best friend's feelings, poor hermione thought you didnt want to be her friends anymore how COULD you, ron that goes for you too, seriously harry do you realize what kind of anxiety you gave hermione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRaritatum/pseuds/LadyRaritatum
Summary: In 1992, Harry Potter and his best friend Ron Weasley fly the blue Ford Anglia to Hogwarts, instead of taking the train. But what was that train ride like for Hermione Granger?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	A Solo Journey

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was inspired by a tumblr post by @timballisto that I read via instagram which reads:
> 
> \--  
> “sometimes i have feelings about hermione on that train ride alone during the chamber of secrets. what if she spent the whole, empty train ride telling herself that ron and harry must’ve just got caught up somewhere down the train, resisting the urge to go looking for them.
> 
> what if she thought they were avoiding her.
> 
> what if hermione thought ron and harry didn’t want to be her friends anymore.”  
> \--
> 
> Toward the end of the story there is some dialogue pulled directly from pages 84-85 of Chamber of Secrets (you’ll probably recognize it!). All the rest came from me :)

_Image by[Jane Ong](https://unsplash.com/@j_ong) via [Unsplash](https://unsplash.com/photos/eU0c_m7F9SU)._

* * *

At first, Hermione is only slightly confused when she can’t find Ron or Harry anywhere on the platform. She looks around for them for as long as she’s able, but she does eventually have to board the train. 

_They must have already got a carriage,_ she assumes, and begins to look for them. 

She sees other friendly faces on her first pass: Fred and George, who greet her cheerfully, but aren’t able to tell her where Ron or Harry had got to; Ginny, who kindly invites Hermione to sit with her if she likes, though Hermione politely declines, figuring Ginny would have a better time getting to know some of the other first years with whom she might be spending the next seven years of her life; Lavender Brown giggling with the Patil twins over something that must have occurred that summer, none of whom pay Hermione any attention as she passes by.

Her confusion deepens to concern when she reaches the front of the train with no Harry or Ron in sight.

 _Perhaps I just missed them, somehow,_ she reasons with herself, and turns around to walk back down the length of the train, luggage in tow.

But she reaches the last car and still has not found either of her best friends in the world.

She’s getting a bit tired, now, and needs to find a carriage to wait in, deciding that when they realize she’s missing, they’ll come look for her; if the boys really are off wandering the carriages, she might as well stay put.

She finds one near-empty carriage, containing the lone figure of Neville Longbottom, cradling his pet toad, Trevor, in his hands.

“Erm. Hi, Neville,” she begins. “Mind if I join you?”

Neville looks up with a friendly smile. “Hey, Hermione! Plenty of room, come on in!”

Rather relieved, she hauls her trunk inside (which she’s sure has doubled in weight since she boarded the train nearly an hour before) and takes the seat by the window on the opposite bench.

Hermione thanks Neville, and the two fall into an awkward silence, not sure what to say to each other.

After a few minutes, Neville asks, “no Harry or Ron?”

Hermione swallows. “No, I, er. Couldn’t find them? I - I’m sure they’re around somewhere, they’ll turn up,” she finishes quickly.

“Right…” Neville agrees, uncertainly.

A few more minutes pass and Neville tries again.

“So...did you have a good summer?”

Hermione, now analyzing the tone of Ron and Harry’s last letters to her, wondering if they seemed cooler than usual, responds distractedly, “oh, yes, it was quite nice.....”

Neville nods. “Same here…”

Neville casts his mind around, desperately trying to find _something_ he can talk about with his classmate, and finally asks, “you excited about this year?”

Hermione glances over. “Yes; I’ve nearly finished reading the transfiguration text. We’ll be doing some rather interesting spells this year.”

“Oh, that sounds....nice....” he trails off nervously.

Hermione’s gaze returns to the passing landscape. They spend the next couple of hours in near-silence, Neville suddenly worried about the coursework he would be expected to complete, and Hermione still focused on the curious absence of Ron and Harry.

Where could they be? It strikes Hermione as very odd that none of Ron’s siblings seem to know where he is. They wouldn’t be... _avoiding her,_ would they? _No, that’s nonsense,_ she asserts to herself. _Although..._

— —

Eventually, the snack trolley comes by. Hermione dismisses it vaguely, and Neville gets something small, hoping it will calm his nerves.

It doesn’t.

A sudden flurry of activity brings Hermione’s attention back into the train. Trevor has managed to escape Neville’s grip and is now making his way toward the door; Neville, in attempting to recapture his pet, somehow banged his forehead on a sharp part of the seat and is rubbing it with his left hand, blindly reaching forward with his right.

Hermione whips her wand out of her pocket and casts the first spell she can think of: _wingardium leviosa_. In her haste, she misses, and she winces as the spell bypasses the escapist toad and hits, instead, the half-empty bottle of pumpkin juice that Neville had purchased the hour before. The bottle hovers for a brief moment, but, lacking guidance, falls back to the floor with a crash. 

The dark-orange juice begins to seep across the floor of the carriage. Trevor croaks loudly; his escape route, fortunately, has been blocked by the shattered glass from the bottle, and he turns and hops back in the opposite direction. Neville moans vaguely as Hermione takes the opportunity to drop her wand on the bench beside her and, flinging herself on the floor, capture the toad beneath an empty chocolate frog box.

The irony is not lost on her.

She lies on the sticky floor for a moment, catching her breath. When she notices Trevor has finally stopped jumping about under the candy box, Hermione releases him from his cardboard cage and straightens up to deliver the toad into Neville’s hands.

Neville thanks her sheepishly. She gives him a small but warm smile in return and kindly answers, “anytime.”

Hermione glances around at the mess the carriage is now in. She picks her wand back up from the bench and, remembering a cleaning spell from her summer reading, skillfully removes the pumpkin juice from both the floor and her clothing. She then turns to the glass shards near the door and with a careful “ _reparo”_ reassembles the now-empty bottle. She surveys her work, very pleased that the spells performed as expected. She almost laughs aloud thinking how funny the story will be when she tells Ron & Harry. Her smile quickly fades, however; in the excitement, she had forgotten that she hasn’t seen either of her best friends all day.

She swallows and sits back down on the bench. Just then, the carriage door bursts open: a loud, haughty voice drawls, “WELL, POT-”

Draco cuts off, suddenly realizing that Harry is not there. He looks between the still slightly disheveled Hermione and Neville, whose forehead is already showing signs of bruising, before demanding, “Where’s Potter?”

Hermione sniffs and redirects her gaze out the window. “Not here,” she replies, setting her jaw defiantly. 

“No Weasley, either.”

Hermione says nothing. 

Malfoy raises an eyebrow at her.

“Glad you’ve realized what a mistake their company is,” he comments approvingly.

“That’s not true!” Neville defends. “They’re best friends! ...aren’t you?” He finishes a bit weakly with a glance at the very quiet Hermione, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

Draco cuts a disparaging glance toward the other boy. “...at least it’s a start,” he disdains.

He gives Hermione one last glance before whipping about dramatically and closing the carriage door. Neville’s eyes follow him strutting proudly down the train car until he’s no longer visible.

Neville opens his mouth to speak, but changes his mind as he looks back again at Hermione.

The pensive girl is gazing solemnly toward the passing scenery in the waning light, but seeing very little of it. Her mind is, once again, miles away. 

It’s true she hadn’t gotten any letters from Harry during the beginning of the summer — but he had explained that was that house elf’s fault, and Harry wouldn’t lie about that sort of thing, would he? No, of course not. Hermione dismisses the thought. And anyhow, once he was staying with the Weasleys at the Burrow, she had heard from the both of them. It had sounded like such fun...summer at a wizarding family’s home...nothing like she’d ever experienced, for sure...she swallows a small lump of jealousy. 

She had seen them at Diagon Alley after all, to do their shopping for the year! And they were perfectly pleasant...there was that whole business with the Malfoys, of course...Hermione wrinkles her nose at the memory. That was hardly Harry or Ron’s fault, however, and in the end they’d had a rather lovely day shopping together. 

But...what if something had changed since then? Hermione’s reminiscent smile fades with the thought. What if they really were trying to avoid her? Was there something she had said or done that would have made them not want to be her friend anymore? Her lip trembles slightly and she feels the prickle of tears at the corner of her eyes. Surely the boys would say something if anything were wrong?

Unless...perhaps they simply got tired of her. Wouldn’t be the first time, after all. Perhaps they simply did not want to bother being her friend any more. They couldn’t exactly get rid of her in London while their families were all shopping together, so they decided to ditch her at the station and hide from her on the train. Hermione knows she could be a rather tiresome know-it-all. Ron’s words from the year before echo in her memory: _“she’s a nightmare, honestly! It’s no wonder she doesn’t have any friends.”_

If they really were done with her, how could she blame them?

Hermione’s breath hitches as a tear quivers at the edge of her eyelids. She blinks and the tears begin to roll down her cheek and fall to her lap as the train rattles along uncaringly through the countryside.

— —

Neville looks up from the book he’d brought out to pass the time to see Hermione’s shoulders shaking as she rather determinedly faces the window away from him. He chews his lip and a small knot forms in the base of his stomach. Where would Harry and Ron have gotten to? He’s sure his friends wouldn’t abandon her; there must be another explanation. He hesitates, unsure if he should say something to Hermione, and less sure what he should say if he does.

Ultimately, he decides he won’t be any help in this situation, and sadly turns back to his book. He has trouble focusing on it now, though, his attention having been broken, and finally after about a half hour of reading the same two pages over again, he gives up. Swallowing hard, Neville plucks up the courage to break the silence. 

“How far along do you think we’ve gotten?”

Hermione starts at the sudden question. She swipes the back of her hand across her cheek before answering, rather resignedly, “I expect we’ll be in Hogsmeade soon. We’d best be getting our robes on.”

Neville nods and the two begin to prepare for their arrival at Hogsmeade Station.

The other students are chattering excitedly as they disembark from the train. There’s a general buzz amongst the first years; cries of “Firs’ years, this way!” and “This way to the boats, first years follow us!” from Hagrid and the student prefects can be heard over the din. 

“I always said you could trust a Weasley to weasel off!” Draco’s voice cuts through the crowd and the group of Slytherins around him laugh. Hermione quickly looks away, pretending she heard nothing. She figures there’s no point in risking detention already by hexing him, especially since the one she’d be defending doesn’t want her around.

She and Neville run into Seamus and Dean almost as soon as they’ve stepped off the train. Hermione follows the boys absently, still trying to unobtrusively search the crowd for Harry and Ron, in spite of everything.

The small group climbs into a horseless carriage for their ride up to the castle, the three boys chattering cheerfully. Neville has perked up a bit now he’s back with his roommates. The other two cheerfully greet Hermione and politely inquire about her summer, which she answers briefly. They then turn back to their own conversation, but Hermione doesn’t mind. They are all pleasant enough, and the discussion continuing around her suits her just fine.

The first years having been corralled into the boats, the prefects rejoin the rest of the students, and the carriages start off up the path to the castle. Hermione spends the ride trying to steel herself for the eventuality of seeing Harry and Ron at the Great Hall. Undoubtedly, they will be ignoring her, and it just won’t do for her to break down in the middle of the Sorting. She would just have to keep it together until she can get back to her room.

— —

She doesn’t pay much attention to the Sorting Ceremony, only clapping vaguely as the hat calls out a house for each student. The back of her mind registers “Creevey, Colin” and later “Weasley, Ginny” as Gryffindors, but still Hermione takes little notice. Since everyone had taken their seats, she has been scanning up and down the Gryffindor table, searching for Harry’s trademark glasses or Ron’s hallmark red hair. 

Strangely, however, neither boy is anywhere to be found.

_No. That can’t be right. Can it?_

Hermione looks down the entire table once more, heart beating a little faster now, anxiety starting to build. 

_They’re really not there._

_But...that could only mean...were they ever on the train to begin with?_

Self-pity suddenly forgotten, her mind leaps to lists of horrible situations that may have befallen her best friends. Did they miss the train or did something more sinister happen? What if they were kidnapped? What if one of them was hurt? Was there some other wizard trying to harm Harry, like Quirrell had the year before, as revenge for You-Know-Who? Did Ron get caught in the crossfire? Hermione gasped quietly. How did nobody else seem to notice they were missing?

The Sorting now complete, the tables fill with food and the entire room is flooded with the sounds of clattering dishware and cheerful conversation. Hermione glances around and finally spots Percy Weasley a short ways down the table. She quickly gets up and approaches him.

She briefly explains how she hasn’t seen either Harry or Ron all day, and that at first she thought she just hadn’t seen them elsewhere on the train, but now she is convinced they are thoroughly missing. Percy, to his credit, appears duly alarmed at this news, and rises from the table to speak with Professor McGonagall.

Hermione watches as some inaudible conversation takes place, hands gesturing and eyes wide. She’s startled then by the sudden appearance of Professor Snape by McGonagall’s side, who Hermione had not even realized had been missing. More conversation ensues, McGonagall leans over and gains Dumbledore’s attention, yet more words are exchanged, and then the older two professors rise from the head table to join Snape in calmly exiting the Great Hall, dismissing Percy as they go.

Percy returns to the Gryffindor table, briefly pausing next to Hermione as he walks by.

“Professor Snape found Harry and Ron, it seems they’re all right.”

Relief floods through Hermione’s body as she lets out a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding.

Content in the knowledge that she would see her friends again, and hopefully soon, she digs into the meal, suddenly ravenous.

A little while later, after all three professors have returned and most of the students are patting their full stomachs and starting to yawn, a whisper begins traveling through the room.

“Did you hear? Harry Potter didn’t take the Hogwarts Express this year.” “I expect he figured he was too good for the likes of that this time.” “How did he get here then?” “I heard he flew on his broom!” “I heard he took the Knight Bus!” “What’s the Knight Bus?” “No, no, he took a car! A flying car! He and the youngest Weasley boy flew it themselves!” “A couple of twelve year olds driving a car?!” “That’s Gryffindors for you.” “That’s Harry Potter for you - can’t start off the year without showing off for us all, yeah?” “You know what else? I just heard that they were seen! By muggles!” _“No way!” “Wicked!”_

Soon the hall is flooded with the rumors, until Neville turns to Hermione and exclaims, “Guess what, Hemione! Apparently Harry and Ron weren’t on the train after all; they drove a flying car all across the country, _and_ they were even seen by muggles!”

 _“What?!”_ comes Hermione’s outraged reply.

“Yeah, I heard it too!” Dean Thomas chimes in. “Somebody in Ravenclaw overheard Snape and Dumbledore talking about it when they walked by.”

Hermione blinks, stunned. If it had come from any table other than Ravenclaw… she shakes her head. It’s still possible that the tale had gotten muddled in translation. She had played “telephone” at childhood birthday parties, after all. A flying car? Honestly.

Just then, Professor Dumbledore stands to deliver his customary few words, signaling the end of the Welcoming Feast. The prefects usher out the first years to lead them to their new dormitories; the older students slowly begin to trickle out after them.

Hermione rises from the table, intending to make her way to Gryffindor Tower as quickly as possible, hoping that perhaps her friends would be there when she arrives. She doesn’t make it very far, however, before an arm catches and loops through her own. It’s Lavender Brown, accompanied by the Patil twins and a couple of other Ravenclaws that Hermione doesn’t recognize. They greet her pleasantly before Lavender launches into a story about her own summer adventures: she apparently met a nice muggle boy from her neighborhood, and is now insistent on telling the entire second year every detail of the five dates the two of them had gone on.

Hermione sighs inwardly as she slowly makes her way to the seventh floor with the group of girls, Lavender’s arm still linked through her own, and nods and hums agreeably throughout the walk. 

At the top of the final staircase to the seventh floor landing, the Ravenclaws split off for their tower, and the remaining three Gryffindors turn the other direction to make their way to their own dormitory. When they arrive at the Fat Lady’s portrait, Parvati gives the password (“one of the prefects told me earlier,” she explains) and the trio climbs through.

Parvati and Lavender head directly toward the stairs up to their dorm, but pause when they realize Hermione has stopped in the middle of the common room.

“Aren’t you coming up?” Lavender inquires.

“Oh, no, I wanted to wait for Ron and Harry down here.”

“Suit yourself,” Parvati shrugs. “We’ll see you later on.”

Hermione bids her roommates goodnight before crossing to sit in a plushy armchair facing the portrait-hole. She settles in to wait.

The portrait opens numerous times, but neither Harry nor Ron walk through. The common room is full now of students returned from the feast, discussing everything from their summer adventures to what their new year of classes might bring, from how their favorite Quidditch teams have been playing lately to the new Defense professor, Gilderoy Lockhart. Overhearing, however, Hermione notices that the favorite topic of conversation is still Harry and Ron’s arrival. The rumors have expanded by now to include crashing into Hagrid’s hut, landing in the lake, and completely taking out one of the Herbology greenhouses. They all end the same way, though: with Harry and Ron’s expulsion from the school. 

Her worry grows. The minutes tick on, and she sits impatiently in that armchair for what feels like hours, but is actually only about twenty minutes, before she decides she simply can’t sit there any longer and makes up her mind to check if the boys are in McGonagall’s office. _Even if they’re not,_ she reasons, _if Professor McGonagall is, then perhaps she will confirm whether any of this is true or not._

She nods once, firmly, and exits the common room.

She sees a few straggling older students on her way down to McGonagall’s office, but not the two people she’s hoping for. She knocks on the closed door; there is no reply. Trying the door handle, she finds it locked, and decides she won’t begin the year by breaking into her professor’s office. It must be empty, anyhow.

She sighs thoughtfully and stands in the deserted corridor for a moment. If they’re not in McGonagall’s office, where else might they be? She thinks back to the feast. Percy told her that Professor Snape had found them, and she saw Professor Dumbledore leave as well. Either Snape’s office or the headmaster’s would be a good bet, then, but she doesn’t particularly feel like searching for Dumbledore’s office this late at night, and if she’s being perfectly honest with herself, crossing Snape before the school year even properly begins just seems like a terrible idea. Aversion to the potential consequences thereof vastly outweighs her desire to locate her friends, and anyway, chances are they’ve already left and are making their way back to Gryffindor Tower at that very moment.

She shakes her head and quickly squashes the thought that they might not return to the tower at all, because they’ve been expelled.

So, Hermione resigns herself to returning to the common room alone, to wait there for the boys, however long it takes. She turns and begins trudging back, rumors swirling around her head.

Back on the seventh floor, Hermione rounds the corner to see, at the end of the passage ahead of her, two familiar figures: a tall, lanky redheaded boy, and his dark, messy-haired friend. A relieved smile breaks out across her face that she hurriedly suppresses as she dashes toward the pair.

“ _There_ you are! Where have you _been?_ The most _ridiculous_ rumors — someone said you’d been expelled for crashing a flying _car_ —”

“Well, we haven’t been expelled,” Harry assures.

“You’re not telling me you _did_ fly here?” Hermione is astonished. She had so desperately been hoping it wasn’t true.

“Skip the lecture,” Ron cuts in, rather impatiently, “and tell us the new password.”

“It’s ‘wattlebird,’” she answers, irritably, “but that’s not the point—”

Her point is smothered by the sudden clapping erupting from within the common room as the portrait door swings open and the boys step through. Hermione huffs, more annoyed than ever, and climbs through after her friends. The two are pulled along into the room to cheering and congratulations from their other friends and housemates, but scurry upstairs to their dorm upon seeing Percy fuming in their direction from across the room. Hermione folds her arms angrily and scowls at the boys, who call back a quick “’Night,” before ascending.

After shutting her bed curtains in her dorm room a short while later, Hermione flops back on her pillow, suddenly exhausted. She lets out a deep sigh which turns into a yawn halfway through. _What a day._ Between waking up early for the trip, walking the length of the train twice over, catching Neville’s toad, searching the castle for the boys, and all of the fretting in between, it’s amazing she’s even still awake at all. 

A smile tugs at her mouth and, finally, she doesn’t try to hide it. She feels so silly now, lying comfortably in her bed, knowing she’ll see Ron and Harry in the morning. All those worries about being ditched seem so far away; of course they wouldn’t do that. How could she ever think such a thing?

Hermione slides underneath her covers, the castle a little draughty even in the late summer heat. Yes, she’s very pleased to know they’re alright. She’ll have to get the full story in the morning, she decides. There’s no way the two of them just up and decided to take the car; there _has_ to be a good reason. Or perhaps she’ll wait until they’ve had their punishment. Whatever the reason, it was terribly irresponsible to take the car.

For now, though, she’d best get to sleep. A sleepy smile spreads across her face. If the day she’s just had is any indication, the upcoming year is sure to be an exciting one.


End file.
